


Flickering Starlight

by redsnake05



Category: Sumerian Mythology
Genre: F/M, Friendship, Intrigue, Lions, Lust, Original Character Death(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-09
Updated: 2014-12-09
Packaged: 2018-02-28 18:47:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2743286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redsnake05/pseuds/redsnake05
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inanna fights and fucks, and her life is passionate joy, fury and lust. An unexpected attempt on her life makes her question her certainties, and she finds some who are loyal to her, and some who are not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flickering Starlight

**Author's Note:**

  * For [arostine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/arostine/gifts).



> I was excited to write this as soon as I read your prompt and saw that you loved lions. I decided to go with all Sumerian names, just to keep it consistent. Thanks to my beta reader.

In the still of the earliest morning, the morning star rose in the east and looked down on her city with new eyes. Inanna stretched out in the sky, letting the faint light wrap her round. She felt Ninshubur close by, her own light shining steadily, though fainter than Inanna's sparkle. Letting their hearts commune easily, she watched the world slowly wake below them. Ninshubur started to fade, earlier than Inanna today, and Inanna let her go with regret. Her friend and counsellor was away from home, and Inanna looked down on her city pensively without Ninshubur's steadfast glow.

Inanna looked from the sky and saw the ribbon of the river wind away over the land, the houses clustered together inside the walls, the faint lights of the earliest fires. The city of Uruk stirred beneath her, full of promise. She stretched again, letting her light shine on all she surveyed.

In the courtyard of a little mud-brick house by the walls, a chicken clucked quietly and a rooster crowed. A goat bleated and shifted on her bed of straw. On the roof on a rough little pallet, a woman ran her hand possessively over the stomach of her man, and he grunted sleepily as his cock stirred and started to harden.

Inanna smiled down as the woman shifted closer to her man, kissing his shoulder and pressing her breasts against his back as her hand moved lower still. These were her people, feeling her fire in their limbs, and she watched their passion with anticipation.

The woman lazily stroked her man's cock and smiled as he groaned softly. He rolled over and ran his hand over her shoulder, down to cup her breast. She moved over him, straddling him and taking his cock into her cunt. He gripped her hips sleepily as she rode him slowly, quietly building the passion between them. Inanna watched, blessing them with her light as they pleasured each other. Their lust was tribute to her godhead, and she reveled in each touch and kiss, each groan, as they made worship to her together.

The woman bent close to her man, breasts pressed to his chest, and he fucked up into her as she moved faster. They were wrapped up in each other and the world they made with each other, and Inanna felt their exaltation as her own. The woman came with a quiet cry and he clutched her hips wordlessly as he followed her. They fell back on the rough nest of blankets and clung together. The woman looked up to the morning star as they burrowed back into their simple bed, and murmured a soft invocation. Inanna smiled down at them and let the growing warmth of the sun flow through her, thinking of her lover waiting for her in her softer blankets and the lust they would share. She imagined Dumuzi's hands on her hips, his panting breath urging her on.

"You were home late," the woman said.

"Fight at the tavern," he man mumbled. Inanna laughed softly to herself. Her people would never change. "Some men stirring trouble. Something about a plot at the palace."

Inanna forgot everything else and waited impatiently for the man to continue. She should know of all plots at the palace. Her blood began to heat at the slightest hint of anything treasonous.

The woman made a questioning noise and the man continued. 

"It seems some men don't care to be ruled by women," he said. He slapped the woman on the arse and gave her a kiss. "Don't worry, as long as Inanna keeps blessing me with your beautiful round arse, I won't be hearing anything against her."

Her reply was lost in his kiss and Inanna went from impatience to impotent fury. The sun grew stronger by the moment and Inanna could not stay; she began her descent back to the city, seething with fury. It burned all the hotter for the lack of details and immediate action. She would find these men who dared stir trouble, and she would show them how a woman ruled. She would tear their traitorous bodies limb from limb and scatter them in the dead lands. She was the lion of the city, and she would suffer no rivals, no dissent. As she reached the palace, her lover was forgotten, and she marched straight for her bathroom to prepare for the day.

>>>>

Inanna stepped down from her throne after her servant had seen the last palace noble from the room. The servant glanced at her nervously and hastily bowed himself out. Inanna scowled at the closed door. The ministers had been as deferential as ever, abasing themselves and asking her advice with flattering attention. She nudged aside an offering of honey with one sandalled foot and regarded the bundles and jars with a cynical gaze. Any one of the men who'd fawned on her this morning could be acting behind her back to have her enslaved or killed. 

She pulled off her jewelled turban and shook out her hair. She had no doubt she'd looked magnificent up on her throne, with lapis lazuli around her throat and gold threads in her tunic, but she'd been baring her teeth and wishing for a knife each time some courtier made an oily suggestion. She'd wished fiercely for Ninshubur by her side, to judge coolly and decide carefully. Inanna admitted that she did not have Ninshubur's careful deliberation and ability to strategise.

Her scowl deepened as she remembered how particularly obsequious the courtiers had been that morning. Inanna considered a bundle of dyed linen and thought about the tone of the requests as well as the content. They had wanted the consent of the goddess for a war, but she distrusted the sly questions they asked and the pat answers they had proffered. What need had she for a war at this time? Their requests had the ring of insincerity, and she had been filled with the desire to smack their insolent faces, or cut out their lying tongues, even as they bowed to her.

She strode past the offerings and out the back door, into her courtyard. Dumuzi lounged suggestively by the stairs to the roof. Ordinarily, she would have smiled, all sultry anticipation, and sauntered past him up the steps, ready to take him to her bed and work off the frustrations of the morning. Today she merely inclined her head and made to walk past him. His hand shot out to circle her wrist.

"I missed you in bed this morning," Dumuzi said. He smiled at her, all smooth, confident lust, and Inanna glared at the grip he had on her arm. "I want to fuck you, my love. Forget all about that tiresome government business - can't your priests handle that? - and do what you're best at."

Inanna gritted her teeth and pulled her hand away without ceremony. "I am best at being a goddess," she said. 

"That's right," agreed Dumuzi. He stepped closer and stroked his hand down her arm, pitching his voice low. "The most beautiful goddess too, and all mine."

Inanna shoved Dumuzi hard against the wall and pinned him there with her body. Caught off balance, he hit the mudbricks with a thud, and she shoved her hand inside his clothes, finding his cock and squeezing it roughly. She kissed him viciously, holding him against the wall with all her power. He made a protesting noise in his throat. He'd never liked being reminded of the true strength of her godhead and she viciously gloried in his weakness.

"You're mine," she hissed, releasing him abruptly. "I am the goddess of this city, and I will fuck whom I choose, not the other way around." Not waiting to see him straighten himself, she strode off to get rid of her jewellery, her ornate cloak of state, and her embroidered slippers. They weighed her down and she'd had enough of them already. She burned to be free, and sent a message to the stables to prepare her chariot. Perhaps she could ease her restlessness with some hunting, before she turned to pursuit of those traitors.

>>>>

Inanna turned her chariot back to the city as the sky turned red in the west. She set the asses a gentle pace, glancing at her charioteer, and smiling at the way he carefully loosened his grip on the side.

"A nice gentle drive back to the city, hmm?" she asked, laughter clear in her voice. The drive out here had been as fierce as two asses could be driven over the wild uncultivated lands. 

"Just as well," he said, flexing his hand. "I'm an old man, you know." She laughed out loud this time, as much for the sheer joy of life as for the comically rueful expression on Gishkim's face.

Inanna smiled again, feeling satisfied with herself and the world. They'd come out past the crops, into the wild lands, and the wind in her hair and the satisfying crunch of her spear into an unwary gazelle had helped settle her temper. True, it was an awkward fit to have the best part of a slaughtered gazelle in her chariot, but she was happy. She'd had time to stop thinking and simply let the heat of the sun burn through her.

"Are you going to tell an old man what made you drive fit to overturn us all the way here?" he asked. 

"No," she said. "You just have to put up with my whims."

"I've been doing that for years, and you've not led me astray yet," he said, sounding content. Inanna felt an unaccustomed tenderness and smiled at him. She remembered when he was a young man, strong and hot-headed. He'd understood her temperament early in the piece, and she'd enjoyed his passion often. It had faded naturally, but now she had a moment of clear memory, of his body under hers and his voice ragged and fervent with pleasure.

Inanna let her chariot run easily along the ground, swaying with the movement. She saw her star open in the sky and let part of her spirit up to soar in the unconfined blue. In that moment, she could view the whole city under her light, and she saw the beauty of its walls and houses, the smoke from innumerable cooking fires, and the laughter and shouting of its wild people.

"Mistress," said Gishkim. Inanna made a noncommittal sound, but Gishkim repeated himself, with more emphasis. She turned her head to glare at him and an arrow thudded into the rim of the chariot, not far from her hand. 

Shoving the reins into Gishkim's hands, confident in his ability to urge the asses on, Inanna grabbed her bow and looked along the direction of the arrow's flight, towards a low hill topped with stones, only a short distance away. The track wound at the foot of the path and Inanna's lips tightened.

"Fools," she hissed. There had been plenty of time to wait before shooting, until they were actually under the hill and unable to escape, and all her attackers had done was warn her. Her anger burned steady and cold. Gishkim drove faster and Inanna watched fiercely for a movement on the hill. 

Knowing that their cover was broken, six men streamed down the hill and attempted to cross the distance, spears in their hands, ready to throw or stab. Teeth bared, Inanna sent an arrow punching through the throat of the first man, quickly restringing to send another into the chest of the second. Gishkim swerved around, taking a risk on the rougher ground to give his mistress better shots. The bowman on the hill started shooting again as they came closer, but Inanna dismissed him. 

Her third arrow went wild as Gishkim pulled left to avoid a rock, but the fourth struck home and her man went down. One man turned and ran, and she spat in his direction as she groped for her last arrow, glaring at the two men left, thinking of her spear, her knife, and their blood, when an arrow hit the leading ass and the chariot went over in a clatter of wood and wild kicking.

Inanna rolled clear, nearly knocked breathless by the fall, but hands still firm on her bow. One man was holding back, no doubt hoping to send his spear into her back. She shot him, making it quick before the other could reach her. He dropped his spear with a scream as the arrow tore into his shoulder, and she heaved one of her spears free of the wreckage, backing away out of reach of the arrows. The last man on the field hesitated.

"Come, man of Uruk, kill your goddess," she said, hefting her spear. He stayed very still and Inanna bared her teeth, daring him to move. He shifted slightly, raising his spear just a little, as though nerving himself to go through with it. Inanna aimed and threw, as fast as thought, and the man crumpled without a sound.

Inanna turned back to the wreck of her chariot, bloodlust and fury fading almost immediately to cold, bitter calculation as she saw her servant calmly putting it back together. Gishkim had cut the dead ass free and righted the platform on the uneven ground. He checked the wheels quickly but carefully. Inanna collected the spears, both her own and her attackers', and the arrows from the field.

"We shall find the wounded man, the runner, and the archer." Gishkim merely nodded and waited for further orders. "I shall leave you the bow," she said. "I shall take the spears and pursue the men on foot around the back of the hillock. You shall follow the path and I will meet you on the other side."

Gishkim nodded again, accepting her orders unquestioningly, and Inanna found a gleam of affection in the midst of her thirst for vengeance. She leaned forward and kissed him, deep and urgent. He sighed and kissed her back, meeting her halfway. It was hurried, for Inanna had not forgotten her prey, but she felt the fervour of his passion with delight.

Grinning, Inanna pulled back and passed a swift hand over the ass's head, soothing it and filling it with new strength, and then she was gone, springing cleanly over the ground. The rough earth beneath her seemed to sing with her passing, and she followed the indistinct trail of blood with ease.

She had barely turned the edge of the hill when the soft footfall of paws could be heard behind her. She changed angle, paused and leapt through the air. She landed on the broad back of a lioness and balanced there. Beneath her feet, she felt the quiver of a low growl, and on each side an answer. Inanna crouched down, making herself more stable, and let the lioness choose the smoothest path. 

Exulting in the speed and strength of her animals, Inanna let the wind lift her hair and carry away her own wordless howl of strength and triumph. She would see these men shredded by her claws, torn by her teeth, and scattered as carrion for the desert to devour.

>>>>

Inanna emerged from her bath house still damp and ravenously hungry. She hoped that the servants would have managed to heat her supper already. Killing men gave her an appetite, especially when it made her late. 

Her mind worked furiously on the problem of those men as she swiftly mounted the steps to the roof. A charcoal brazier lent a welcome warmth to the evening air, though it was the woman seated beside it that made Inanna call out happily and momentarily forget her anger.

"Ninshubur!" she said. "I have sorely felt the need of you today! Have you eaten?"

Ninshubur stood and kissed Inanna, first on the cheek and then on the lips. Inanna clutched her tight for a moment, feeling inexpressibly relieved that her friend and advisor had come. She'd wished for her so often in the trials of the day, and it seemed like a miracle that she was here, by her side.

"I finished my business and wanted to come home," Ninshubur replied. "I have not yet eaten, but your servants tell me there is enough to go round. Dumuzi ate elsewhere, apparently, so there should be quite a feast for us."

Inanna scowled at the mention of Dumuzi's name. His possessive assumption of the morning still rankled. She didn't want to see him, but his absence also angered her. Putting it aside, she drew Ninshubur to sit by the brazier instead as the servants finally laid the table with dishes. Steam rose from them and Inanna's belly rumbled at the smell. 

As they ate, she poured out the troubles of the day to Ninshubur, trusting to get good advice. She spoke of the attack between gnawing on the bones of tonight's roast duck, dwelling viciously on her desire to have the bodies brought back to hang from the walls of the city as a grisly reminder of who the power in the city was.

"I don't think that would be the best idea," said Ninshubur calmly, tearing her bread to pieces and mopping up the last of her stew. "There are two things I don't like about this whole affair."

"Only two?" asked Inanna. She was replete, and, for the moment, content to listen to her friend. She took a deep swallow of her beer and waited.

"Two main things," corrected Ninshubur. "First, that you should come so close to death - what if that bowman had not been so impatient? I could not bear to lose you, and the thought that they came so close is terrifying."

Inanna was chilled suddenly by Ninshubur's words. In her anger, she'd not thought of the possibility that she might have been killed, that she could have been the lifeless husk brought back to the city to be displayed in triumph with her cold skin, glassy eyes and eventual decomposition. She shook her head; it could not be. She was strong enough to fight death, and she would do so.

Ninshubur drew her attention back to the present. "The second," she continued, "is that, somehow, your assassins knew of your hunting trip, which you say was not planned."

Inanna's chill deepened. She heard Ninshubur's words but couldn't make herself respond for a moment.

"Dumuzi," she said. Leaping to her feet, she began to pace back and forth with hurried strides, as if she could walk away from the furious hatred that suddenly burned in her. She would believe him capable of passing on information on her movements, maybe even by accident, but it made perfect sense that a cabal of traitorous men would have a figurehead in mind to replace her, and who better than the man who was already king?

"That might not be true," Ninshubur said. Inanna did not reply, merely stopping for a moment and shaking her fist in the direction of the palace. "We can't know that for certain," she repeated, "but we do know one thing."

"When I find these treasonous fools, I will disembowel them all; that is certain," Inanna hissed.

"Well, yes," said Ninshubur, "but we also know one place where they are known to have been, and have you ever met a man who didn't go to the same tavern as often as possible?"

Inanna stopped and turned, her smile sharp and feral. "Very good," she said. "A very good plan. Let's go immediately."

>>>>

The tavern was small and dim, but not so small that Inanna and Ninshubur stood out as they slipped in the door. They made their way to the back, squeezing past men with sultry smiles. They had many lewd offers, and Inanna laughed with delight at the audacity some of her men showed. Her people would never change; their lust cheered her, even with the task they had come here for. She and Ninshubur smiled and answered them merrily, but always they pressed further in.

The tavern owner looked them over appraisingly and offered them beer. Inanna accepted with a lascivious kiss and a squeeze, and Ninshubur led them to the table currently occupied by another woman. Sizing them up with shrewd eyes, she welcomed them with a sweep of her hand.

"Many thanks, sister," said Inanna. Taking a swallow of her beer, she looked around the tavern again. The men talked quietly, except for a rowdy group in the far corner. 

"You're welcome," she replied. Inanna looked into her face and realised she'd been recognised.

"We took such pains with our disguise," she said.

"These men wouldn't know one face from another," she said, "and barely manage to remember the look of a particularly distinctive cunt. I wouldn't worry about them." 

Inanna laughed and took another swig of her beer. This sister had no illusions, and Inanna liked that. 

"I'm guessing you're after a particular kind of man," she said. Ninshubur leaned forward and took over the conversation. Inanna was content to let her; she occupied herself with looking round the room in a mixture of amusement and impatience. She heard the hush of their voices, and reminded herself that she must not kill whomever this man turned out to be, no matter how much she wanted to.

Ninshubur touched her arm and Inanna followed her gaze to the rowdy group in the corner. A few men were already looking their way, and Inanna boldly appraised them as Ninshubur turned her face, affecting coyness.

She looked back to her sister and grinned, all sharp teeth and bloodlust. "If you need anything, my sister, my house is your house," said Inanna. She handed over a token of her household, and the woman accepted it with a look of relief and gratitude, quickly hidden by a knowing wink. The token meant security, a valuable thing for Inanna's sisters. 

Rising to her feet, Inanna drained the rest of her beer. She knew men were watching her and wanting her, and the thought of their desire heated her blood. She leaned down and kissed her sister on the mouth, slow and deliberate. Straightening, she led the way back towards the door. Just as she'd thought, a man detached himself from the noisy group in the corner and intercepted them.

"We'd like to have a drink with you," he said. His smile was confident and his hand encircled her wrist with a caressing, proprietal attitude, and she resisted the urge to jerk it away. Fortunately, Ninshubur replied, telling him that they would be delighted. They let themselves be shepherded across the floor of the tavern.

Inanna accepted a beer from one of the men, smiling flirtatiously and draping herself over one man and then the next. Ninshubur did the same on the other side. She perched herself on the knee of the oldest man there, clearly the one calling the shots this evening. His clothes were more expensive, and Inanna thought he was carefully dressing to fit in. Ninshubur ran her hand down the man's chest and teasingly down his belly. He grasped her fingers in his, and Inanna saw the embossed crest of an official's ring on his finger. 

Ninshubur giggled and whispered something in his ear, then looked over at Inanna and smiled sharply, with an edge of triumph. Inanna crossed the circle of men and pressed herself into his other side, breasts against his back and arm around his shoulders. She itched to snap his neck, but resisted. 

The man cleared the circle of men, amidst laughing protests at him getting both the women. He offered an arm to each and led them out into the night. They walked a short distance down the road, to an alleyway that was quiet. Inanna looked both ways up the street as she followed him in.

Ninshubur was pressed up against the man, allowing herself to be kissed. She was perfectly subservient in his arms, letting him bend and mould her how he would. Inanna ground her teeth at the insult to her friend. He let her go and turned.

"Your friend said you were something special," he said to Inanna. "How about you show me?"

The force of her blow crumpled him to the ground in a senseless lump, and Inanna pounced on him wrathfully. Ninshubur caught her arm before she could deliver the next blow. Recollecting herself, she rolled him over and tied his arms behind his back while Ninshubur saw to his ankles. They carried him to the end of the alleyway and Gishkim was there with the chariot. Dumping him in, Inanna was free to contemplate his certain destruction as they drove back to her palace.

>>>>

Inanna sat on her throne and waited for the courtier to stir. She had wrenched his ring from his finger and now turned it over and over in her hands. It belonged to the family of Dumuzi's uncle. It had taken all of Ninshubur's tact to keep Inanna from dragging her lover from his bed at the palace and throwing him off the walls there and then. She was cold with anger now, though, ready for her prisoner to wake.

At last he moved, rolling heavily onto his back and touching his head gingerly. Inanna waited for him to sit up and stretch out his limbs. He looked up and froze. Inanna wore none of her ceremonial regalia, was still dressed in the simple clothes of a tavern whore, but she knew he recognised her now. His mouth moved in a curse, or perhaps a prayer, while Inanna didn't move.

He heaved himself to his feet and stood uncertainly. Inanna could almost see his mind racing through the possibilities, and saw in his sudden cold sweat the moment he realised he was dead. He gathered himself and ran for the door. Inanna was after him in a flash, catching him comfortably before the door and dragging him back to the centre of the room. He struggled and screamed and kicked wildly as she handled him effortlessly. She dropped him on the floor again and stood over him.

"I hear that you find women lacking as rulers," she said.

He turned his head and shut his mouth stubbornly. Perhaps thinking his silence would distract her, he exploded into motion, kicking at her legs before launching himself on her with a scream. Inanna didn't bother exerting herself. She was a goddess, and played with him, as a lioness might play with her prey. She was inflamed with joy and blazed intensely with light as she fought.

He couldn't lay a hand on her, as her blows rained into his belly, his face, his legs. He collapsed at last, breathing in tearing sobs. He stared up at her in fear, and she felt fierce satisfaction as he cowered at her feet. She was tempted to beat him further, make him bleed on her clean floor and leave his body there as a broken piece of tribute. He must have seen the threat in her face, because he started crying desperately, begging for the mercy she didn't have. She felt contempt for this man of small courage, who had tried to kill her without honour.

Ninshubur approached and touched her shoulder lightly, and she remembered what she was here for. Reaching up, Inanna laid her hand on Ninshubur's, scowling down at her cowed opponent as Ninshubur asked the questions she needed to get to the end of the plot.

He stammered answers to every question, spilling all the secrets he could. Inanna kept her eyes fixed on him as he told how he'd used Dumuzi's information to lay his plans. Her eyes narrowed as he proclaimed Dumuzi's innocence of any scheming. He'd intended to see Dumuzi on the throne, and then, later, himself. He had henchmen, of course, all needy merchants who flattered him into promising more than a prudent man would give. 

She looked up suddenly as the door burst open and Dumuzi burst in, haphazardly dressed, unkempt and breathless. He leaned against the door for a moment before coming inside with as much dignity as he could muster. Inanna inclined her head in greeting.

"I insist you release my cousin," he said.

"Really?" asked Inanna. "Because you're implicating yourself just after your cousin told us how innocent you are."

"I am innocent," Dumuzi said. "And you have no right to have my cousin here, and torture him, like a common criminal!"

"I have every right," said Inanna, raising her voice as her anger, carefully controlled, started to grow.

"I am the king," said Dumuzi, "and I rule this city!"

"A puppet king," jeered Inanna. "So weak that your traitorous fool of a cousin wasn't even going to have you killed, just manipulate you."

"This is my city!" roared Dumuzi.

"By my grace!" answered Inanna, furious now. "I brought the mes to this city, and it is my strength that maintains these walls, and my power that heats the hearts of the people! What are you? A figurehead to a cabal of worms! Men who use your weakness to attempt to strike at me!"

"You must let my cousin go," said Dumuzi, his voice shaky as he attempted to placate her. He finally seemed to have recognise the fragility of his position. "I shall summon the people."

"I must? I must do nothing. I am the law. I am the city. You are a fool, and your cousin a traitorous fool. Is it nothing to you that he tried to kill me?"

"Well, yes, if true, then the men of the city should judge him."

Inanna's fury boiled over and she turned, snatching up a clay lamp and sending it hurtling across the room. Dumuzi dodged at the last moment and it shattered on the floor behind him. Inanna sent more lamps flying, then a chair, and Dumuzi threw his arms over his head. She screamed at him, berating him for his disloyalty, his stupidity and his cowardice. He shouted back, doing his best to avoid the storm of her anger. Finally, he turned, flinging himself out of the room.

Inanna continued to rage, kicking her throne and crossing back over to her prisoner. She stooped over him, teeth bared, ready to rip him apart with her bare hands. Ninshubur's hand on her shoulder and the quiet of her voice barely penetrated Inanna's rage, but she repeated herself and Inanna drew her hands back from the traitor. 

"I know you shall see to everything," Inanna said. She wiped her hands on her tunic and left the throne room.

>>>>

On the walls of her city, the sun set red behind Inanna and she let part of her spirit soar into the sky, into the star she embodied. She looked down on her city and felt its pace slow as the evening came on. 

The people drifted down to the walls, filling the sides of the streets. There was a subtle hum of anger through them, which intensified as the condemned men were led towards the gates. She watched them walk, Dumuzi's traitorous cousin supported between two of the merchants, and anticipated their sentence.

She knew that the city was puzzled by her apparent mercy. They were to be thrust through the gates at sunset, but they'd not find a welcome on the other side of the walls. She watched as the sentries heaved the gates open and the men stumbled through, followed by a last hail of trash. They huddled on the other side in the last rays of the sun and the gates shut behind them.

Lifting her hands in the air, Inanna cried out, a great wordless howl of judgement and vengeance. The people behind her streamed to the walls, realising that their goddess must have something more to do. She called again, feeling inside herself the soft thud of paws and the swift eating of the sands of the land. A third time, and the lionesses appeared from the nearest field, as if they had materialised there. A shout of terror came from the men on the road, of surprise and anticipation from the walls.

Inanna did not bother with preliminaries. Her spirit ran with the lions as their roar matched hers, and she fueled their bloodlust as the men were torn open, one after the other, until the road outside the city was soaked with blood, and there was no taint of betrayal left in the city. Then they wiped their noses with their paws and disappeared back into the fields, and the sky darkened. 

The crowd dispersed and Inanna leaned her arms on the wall and considered the softness of the night. She had thought that she would feel good, and she did feel satisfied as she watched her men come to collect what was left of the bodies to bury in the wastes. Underneath, though, was a restlessness she couldn't quite identify.

She climbed down off the walls and walked through the city. People swirled around her, but Inanna felt separate and alone, even as she laughed with their lewd jests. The crowds thinned as she approached her temple, and she walked in silence. She considered how close she'd been to death, how the arrow in her chariot could have lodged in her heart instead, and the idea left her cold.

Inanna didn't often contemplate the wider world. She loved to live: fighting and fucking were her main delights, though she acknowledged, with an inward laugh, that she sometimes managed to pretend to be interested in the harvest. There was something more that itched at her now, though; the thought of her body limp and lifeless, of its slow swelling and greenish-yellow mottling, and her eventual disintegration. The hands of death reached out for her, and she could see their cold, hard inevitability. Shaking her head to clear it, she vowed that she would not fall into their clutches. She would find a way to defeat even death.

Ahead of her, her temple was dark, but behind it her household would be warm and bustling. Dumuzi wouldn't be there, of course; he'd be sulking up at the palace. She didn't care. She knew he'd return soon enough, and there would be time for making up. Perhaps. She pushed the thought away and paced up the steps instead. Dinner would be waiting for her, and Ninshubur would be sitting on the other side of the table, and they would speak of everything and nothing. Then, perhaps, Inanna would find a way to forget the restless itch inside her. She ran up the steps and into the fragile light.


End file.
